


The Fault in Distant Stars

by Donatello7



Series: The Day the Music Died [4]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel (Movies)
Genre: BUBBLES!, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kid Fic, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:12:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2286249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donatello7/pseuds/Donatello7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill for LilRed7503</p><p>'peter abused back on earth, by someone don't care who. With the ravagers he's terrified not because they kidnapped him but because their adults. It takes Yondu no time at all to figure out, especially since Peter keeps flinching expecting a slap. Yondu + ravagers prove to Peter that nothing is his fault and he didn't deserve it'</p><p> </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LilRed7503](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilRed7503/gifts).



Yondu Udonta likes to think that he is someone who is, on the whole, good with children.

 

His own parents raised him well, giving him the love and encouragement that any child needs growing up. Needs in order to become an adult who is confident and secure. Yondu is confident and secure enough to run his own ship, and trust his crew.

 

So he likes to think that he has learned everything that he needs to know about raising a child that same way. He learned it from his parents as they learned it from theirs.

 

* * *

 

 

Centaurians come of age at 20, so even though Kraglin is approaching sixteen and nearly an adult by Xandarian standards, that doesn’t mean shit to Yondu, and the God’s only know when a Terran comes of age but he is guessing it isn’t at 8 years old. So right now Yondu is faced with two children and a piece of machinery that has had water poured into it and has, naturally, broken as a result.

 

“Anyone care to tell me who was responsible for this little fiasco?” He says, kneeling down so that his gaze is between the eye level of the two boys. “Talk quick.”

 

“Me.” Kraglin says straight away. “I tripped him and he dropped the cup.”

 

“Why’d you trip him?”

 

“Thought it'd be funny.”

 

“Was it?”

 

“No.”

 

“Right.” He raises his hand to pat Kraglin on the shoulder, because he’s admitted his fault and that deserves praise. But then he notices Peter flinch, his eyes fixed on his playmate with...surely that isn’t fear. Is he afraid of Kraglin? No, they're thick as thieves and have been since the Terran was brought on board just over a week ago…

 

The boy’s eyes flick back to Yondu, look into his eyes, and plead.

 

And Yondu realises. Peter is afraid FOR Kraglin.

 

“Go to your bunk, Kraglin. We’ll talk later.”

 

“But?”

 

“Now.” Yondu’s tone and expression make it clear that argument is not wise, and the Xandarian teen quickly disappears, leaving Yondu, Peter, and the broken machinery alone in the corridor.

 

Yondu raises his hand again, and Peter flinches almost immediately, eyes scrunched shut and breathing hitched.

 

Yondu’s had plenty of people be afraid of him, and he rather enjoys the power. But he has never had a child be afraid of him before, and he finds that the feeling makes him sick to his stomach.

 

“What you scared of, boy?” He says quietly.

 

“He tripped me ‘cause I was teasing him, because his hair’s all silly like. I mean...it’s not silly...I just. I shouldn’t have gone teasing him. It’s my fault the machine got all broke.” He closes his eyes even tighter, trembling. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. Don’t punish my friend. It’s me that deserves it. But I am sorry. I really am.”

 

Yondu picks up the machine. He isn't all that sure what it is. Something to do with the oxygen regulation system.

 

“Did you want to drop the cup on this thing, boy?”

 

Peter shakes his head, and his eyes peel open.

 

“Then why should I punish you for doing something you didn’t want to do, hmm? Seems a bit like a waste of time to me. You already know it shouldn’t have happened.”

 

The confusion on Peter’s face is so stark and vulnerable that Yondu wants to hug him the way he used to hug the young hunters in his tribe, when they had fallen, or missed a shot, or confessed problems that they felt no one else could hear. Centaurians firmly believed in the power of physical contact and comfort during times of upset. The power it had to hold the body, keeping it still and together so the mind could concentrate on regrouping. On healing.

 

But not with Peter. Not yet. Because he isn't Centaurian, and Yondu has learned the hard way not to apply his cultural ideals to individuals of other races before trust has been established. Most of the Ravager crew are already there, and accept that a hand on the shoulder, a hug or foreheads pressed together is part of the territory.

 

But Peter. Peter flinches as soon as Yondu twitches his hand, and the Captain knows now that this isn’t a cultural thing. His research has shown him enough images and documents from Terra to know that physical contact is not an alien concept, especially among children and those considered, as Yondu hopes to become, a parental figure. So why does Peter fear even the chance of contact?

 

“Do you think I’m going to hit you, boy?”

 

And when the Terran boy nods, it takes all of Yondu’s self control to not punch the hull plating beside them.

 


	2. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which one of the Ravagers takes an unorthodox approach to the problem that is Peter Quill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So naturally I start planning this chapter and then a fic turns up with the same AU back story :-/ 
> 
> I tried to think up an alternate approach, but kept coming back to this being the best one...so sorry for stepping on your toes. I swear it is a coincidence.

Peter knows that kids have a Mother and a Father. So when Murray move in with them, he decides that he must be his Father.

 

Mom likes Murray. She always smiles when he talks to her, and they joke and sit with their arms wrapped around each other to watch the TV. Peter sits on the floor, and every now and again his Mom reaches down to pat his head.

 

Murray doesn’t like Peter calling him Daddy. He doesn’t like it at all.

 

He doesn’t tell Mom. She’ll be upset. Or angry. Because Peter is supposed to be her perfect little Star Lord. She might even say that it is her fault, even though it is Peter’s.

 

Peter knows that he is bad. He tries to be good, but he always messes up. And it isn’t Mom’s fault. It’s all his fault.

 

He supposes that he is lucky that Murray is there to help him to be better at being good, but he wishes that learning to be good didn’t hurt so much.

 

He wishes that he didn’t deserve to be punished so much. But he knows that it is his own fault.

 

And his Mom is going to be so proud of him once he is a proper good boy. And maybe Murray will let him call him Daddy and no...no...no...no...

 

He wakes up.

 

* * *

 

Little Peter scurries up to the edge of the bed, his legs made heavy by the moisture weighing down on his trousers.

 

He lifts the blanket, eyes fixed on the central dark patch. The same on the mattress. He kicks at the mattress, maybe he can make it look dry if he rubs at it with the blanket. He tries that, but it just makes the blanket even more wet and now it stinks as well and no no no no no.

 

He can almost hear Murray shouting in his head. Disgusting, stupid baby. Should still be in diapers. And stop with the fucking crying.

 

Kraglin is dead to the world in the bunk opposite Peter’s, and he wonders if he should wake him. He might help. But he might also tell Peter to get lost. Might call Peter a baby. Kraglin’s going to be sixteen in a few days, and he won’t want to be friends with a baby when he’s sixteen.

 

Peter wants the blanket to become magically dry. He wants to go home. He wants his Mom. But…

 

He cries, cries so hard that it chokes him. His face feels hot and his nose is stuffy, and still he cries. He wants his Mom. He hears a voice and screams as a hand touches him. The hand goes away and he carries on crying. He cries and now his eyes are burning from where he’s been rubbing at them, and his nose is running. He wants his Mom to tell him that it’s okay. That he’s still a good boy.

 

Even if she was lying, it was still nice to hear.

 

“What’s all this?”

 

No no no no no. Peter scurries further into the bunk alcove, crying out as he strikes his head against the wall. He rubs at the bump, and holds the blanket between him and Yondu as the large man sits on the edge of the bed. Kraglin is standing behind the Captain, bleary eyed and worried.

 

“Ah…” Yondu says quietly, eyes fixed on the mattress before he turns back to the teen standing behind him. “Looks like young Quill here missed the bathroom” He chuckles, but his expression quickly changes as he looks back and notices Peter’s trembling increase almost ten fold. “Kraglin, you got some spare clothes he can borrow.”

 

Kraglin pulls a box out from under his bunk, and lifts out a shirt and trouser set. “They’ll be way too big.”

 

“He’s only gonna be sleeping in them.” Yondu says, taking the clothes and passing them to Peter. “You go get yourself cleaned up, boy. Then back here.”

 

“I’m...I’m…”

 

“Yeah I know, you’re sorry. Go on, before the smell attracts a space monster.”

 

“Sp...space monster.”

 

Yondu fixes him with a glare, and Peter can’t get to the bathroom fast enough.

 

* * *

 

When Peter arrives back at the bedroom later, hands holding up the too big trousers, it is to find that Kraglin is gone, as are the mattress and blanket from Peter’s bed. Yondu is stood at the edge of the room, holding Peter’s rucksack.

 

It’s the first time that Peter has seen the bag since he was abducted, and he nearly reaches out for it before remembering that it is being held by Yondu and he needs his hands to hold up his trousers.

 

“Been doing some reading up on your species.” The Captain says. “Apparently you younglings pissing while sleeping is common. Book says not to worry so we won’t worry, yeah.”

 

“You can get books on humans?” Peter asks. “Do you study us in school, Sir?”

 

“Didn’t go to no school as you would call it.” Yondu laughs and puts Peter’s bag on the end of Kraglin’s bunk. “And don’t call me Sir. Might be a Captain, but this ain’t no army.”

 

“I’m sorry, S...Captain.”

 

“It’s just Yondu.” The Captain pats the pillow at the end of the bed. “Get in.”

 

“That’s Kraglin’s…”

 

“He’s already said it’s okay.”

 

Peter obeys, not wanting to argue with the older man. He knows that everything he can do now to be good will make the punishment less painful. He pulls the blanket up, and sits there.

 

“There we go.” Yondu opens the bag. “Now...got anything in here that’ll help you feel better?”

 

Peter looks at the Captain, and then back at the bag, and Yondu almost laughs at the expression of disbelief on the boy’s face. He’s punishing him by giving him a treat? Peter instantly thinks of his walkman, but no...what if it’s a trick. He remembers when Murray broke his favourite toy to punish him. Yondu needs to think that the walkman is worthless.

 

He thinks, and then takes something out of the bag.

 

“What’s that?” Yondu says as he closes the bag.

 

“It’s a comb.” Peter says, and when the Captain still looks confused Peter slowly lifts the comb up into his hair, running it through. It almost immediately catches on a tangle.

 

“Ah...not really needing one of those.” Yondy says, pointing at his own bald head. “You need a hand with…”

 

As soon as Yondu reaches out, Peter flinches, his breathing hitched.

 

The Captain smiles sadly, pulling the hand back. “Well, you sleep tight then, boy.” He picks up Peter’s backpack, and leaves the room.

 

The relief hits Peter so hard that it feels like a rock. He lays down, curling up on his side and hiding the comb under the pillow. As he falls asleep, he is vaguely aware of someone else entering the room, throwing a mattress and blankets onto Peter’s bunk opposite, and then climbing into the newly made bed. But he’s too tired to really acknowledge them.

 

* * *

 

Yondu likes to think that he is a good Captain. He’s firm with his crew, and he ain’t afraid to get his hands bruised when one of them really steps out of line. But punishments fit crimes. And he’s just as ready to be the comforter when that’s needed.

 

He sits on the bridge, eyes fixed on the stars. At current speed it’s going to be a good couple of months before they are back in what one would call civilised space, and while this isn’t the first long haul that the Ravagers have taken, it seems to be the hardest on the Captain.

 

He thinks the crew are noticing. They are quieter with their words. Horuz is taking more of the day to day running upon himself, bringing less issues to the Captain’s chair.

 

Yondu likes to think that he is a good Captain, and in turn he has a good crew.

 

“You little brat!"

 

Immediately alert, Yondu checks his arrow and then follows Horuz out into the corridor, where Peter is currently stood, wide eyed and terrified, with a heavy hand on his shoulder. The boy struggles but Klo comes from a heavy gravity world. On this ship he’s a God.

 

“You know. Never tasted Terran flesh before.” The Ravager licks his lips.

 

Peter can barely breath.

 

“KLO!” Yondu roars, an explosion of sound that has even Horuz feeling like he’s just lost a life. Klo immediately drops the boy, who scurries to stand between Yondu and Horuz.

 

“Horuz.” Yondu says over his shoulder. “Escort Mr. Klo here to the brig. And put an armed guard at the door.”

 

“Just a joke, Captain. I don’t need a fucking guard.”

 

“Ain’t to stop you doing anything, son. It’s to stop me.” Yondu waits until Horuz and Klo are gone, and then kneels down so that he is eye level with Peter, whose eyes and mouth are both wide.

 

“He hurt you, Boy?”

 

Peter shakes his head, his expression not changing.

 

“Good.” Forgetting himself, Yondu pats the Terran boy on the shoulder. “That’s good.”

 

It takes him a second to realise that Peter hasn’t flinched.

 

-

 

“Tell me I’m a genius.”

 

“You are clinically insane.” Horuz speaks through his teeth as he throws Klo into the brig.

 

“Ah, but it worked, didn’t it? See the way that boy was looking up at the Captain at the end. Proper hero worship.” Klo jumps onto the brig bunk, feeling very very pleased with himself. “Been eating the Captain up having that kid be afraid of him.”

 

“So you made him terrified of you, instead?”

 

“Nah, Horuz, I can lay low here until we drop the brat off. Don’t bother me.” Klo lays out on the bunk, crossing his ankles. “And now he knows that the Captain’s got his back, maybe he’ll be less afraid of the rest of the crew. Not good, fear at that age. Messes you up in the head.”

 

“Case in point.” Horuz says, pointing at Klo.

 

Klo makes a rude gesture, and Horuz can’t help the smile that comes to his lips. Klo is nuts, but he is a good kind of nuts.

 

And he is right, the plan did seem to work.

 

 

 

 


	3. Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Peter starts Ravager school.

“So you happy now the Cargo is basically idolizing you?" Horuz says as he joins Yondu in the corridor. “You was bad enough when Kraglin started talking like you.”

 

The Captain chuckles. “Well, if you’d think the ‘Cargo’ would be better delivered to his father all messed up in the head, then I suppose we could keep him locked in the brig with Klo till we get him home.”

 

“About that, Yondu…”

 

“I already put two and two together, Horuz. That’s why Klo don’t have an arrow shaped hole in his throat. Stupid idea though. Effective, but stupid. Damn youngling could have had a heart attack. Put Klo on one of the M-Ship escorts and if he’s back on this ship before we hit known space, he won’t be in a no M-Ship when I kick him out again.”

 

“Yes, Captain.”

 

“And I’m going to start giving the ‘Cargo’ some Ravager training. Just the simple stuff. Picking pockets and that lot. Keep Quill’s mind occupied and cups of water out of the oxygen units. You can handle the ship while I’m doing that?”

 

“You’ll be doing the training yourself?”

 

“You got a better suggestion?”

 

“No.” Horuz shakes his head. “With you at the reins, he’d make a damn good Ravager.”

 

“That he would.”

 

* * *

 

“So, this here trinket’s behind a forcefield.” Yondu touches the forcefield and Peter jumps as a jolt of electricity shoots out, hitting the Centaurian’s hand.

 

The trinket in question is a small ceramic cat. Peter doesn’t think to ask how Yondu got his hands on it.

 

“So, how do we go about getting the cat out of the forcefield?” Yondu says turning back to his class, if one Terran child can be called a class.

 

“Switch off the forcefield?” Peter says, smiling.

 

Yondu does so, and the alarm that results is so loud that Peter brings his hands to his ears. Yondu gives him a couple of seconds of suffering his mistake, and then switches the forcefield back on.

 

“Not an option. Alarms. Booby traps. Release of a toxic poison into the atmosphere. If you ain’t dead you’re in the Kyln, and you’ll probably never see daylight again.”

 

Peter stiffens, eyes closed. “Sorry.”

 

“You don’t know Boy, that’s why I’m teaching you.” Yondu waits for Peter to open his eyes. “So, the cat here, he need a name?”

 

“Bubbles.”

 

“So Bubbles here is behind a forcefield, and we ain’t going to be switching it off. Now important thing about forcefields, they only work one way. So they keep things from getting in, but ain’t nothing stopping things from getting out. And that is why we need one of these.” He places a small tripod on the ground, and activates it. Peter watches as ‘Bubbles’ slowly drags along the shelf and then flies into the middle of the tripod, the speed of his journey slowing at just the right moment to stop him shattering against the device.

 

“Wow!”

 

“Ravager tech, so don’t go spreading it around.” Yondu says, as he lifts the cat out of the tripod. “We have our secrets, same as anyone in known space.” He switches off the forcefield, quickly putting ‘Bubbles’ back before switching it back on again and waiting for Peter to take his hands away from his ears.

 

“Right.” He hands the tripod to the Terran. “Your turn.”

 

* * *

 

The transformation is far from instant. Peter still flinches when a hand is raised high enough, even by Kraglin, and he stiffens if he thinks he has said something wrong. But he is also more willing to explore the ship now, and has even set foot on the bridge by himself once or twice.

 

The crew, for the most part, are kind. Yondu has said nothing, but he thinks people are putting two and two together the same as he has. Someone in the kid’s past has put him through the ringer. Which makes him...well it makes him a Ravager.

 

You don’t tend to pick a life of crime because you grew up smelling flowers. Out of everyone besides Peter, Yondu had probably had the most stable childhood and adolescence, before war had taken that all away. They all have their ghosts, and they find strength in supporting each other.

 

It also doesn’t escape the Captain’s notice that as Peter gets more and more outgoing, Kraglin seems to be sliding in the opposite direction. The boy stumbles, sometimes slurring his words or losing concentration mid task, and more that once he has been caught napping during the day.

 

Suspicions as to the cause of this are confirmed in the early hours of the morning, as Yondu sneaks into the bedroom, hiding in a shadow as he looks down on the scene before him in a way that might be described as fondly.

 

Peter is curled up under his blanket in a little ball of Terran. On top of the blanket, an arm lazily draped around his friend, is Kraglin.

 

A quick look at Peter's tear streaked face reveal the reason for the unusual sleeping arrangement.

 

Peter starts to fidget, and Kraglin is immediately alert.

 

"Don't..."

 

"It’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you." The teen whispers into his ear, and Peter settles back into deep sleep. Kraglin then lays back down, and is quickly out like a light.

 

Yondu shakes his head. Poor kid. This ain’t fair on him.

 

Yondu quietly navigates his way around the room, switching off the alarm above Kraglin's bunk and collecting up the blanket from it to drape over the teen. Now the tricky part. Sitting on the floor, he carefully slides his arms under the Terran child and lifts him out of the bed and onto the captain's lap.

 

Kraglin is awake almost immediately, eyes fixed on the captain in a mixture of concern and confusion.

 

"I'm gonna look after Quill for a bit."

 

“He okay?”

 

“Yeah. Nothing for you to be worrying about.”

 

Kraglin nods, already losing the battle to stay conscious. As soon as the teen’s breathing has evened out, Yondu risks moving again.

 

He holds the sleeping Peter securely against his shoulder while he returns to his original reason for sneaking into their room, taking out a data pad from his pocket and placing it on the table where it will be easy to see when Kraglin wakes up. Yondu hopes that this won’t happen until nearly lunchtime, because the kid clearly needs the sleep.

 

He leaves the data pad face up and message clear above the hangar information and activation codes for an M-Ship.

 

"Happy birthday."

 

* * *

 

 

 

Peter wakes up in the corridor. "Where are we going?"

 

"Soon as Kraglin wakes up, you and me and him are going on an adventure in his new spaceship. But first I need to get things ready. You wanna help me with that, Boy?"

 

"Okay." Peter nods, and sighs with what Yondu thinks might be relief. Then he yawns.

 

"You maybe gonna get a bit more sleep first?"

 

"I'm not tired." The boy yawns again, then smiles. "I like it here now."

 

Yondu stops dead in his tracks, eyes fixed on the Terran child. "Do you?"

 

Peter nods. "And...I know I'm bad. but I think it’s nice that you never get angry about it, even when I make really silly mistakes. And I really enjoy your lessons because they are fun and you’re never scary even when you want to be.” Peter’s looks down. “‘Cause, I know I deserve it a lot, but I don't like being punished. It hurts and it's scary, and I try, I really really do try hard to be good. I don't mean to be bad so much, with pissing in the bed and saying things bad and always getting things wrong in the lessons. I really do want to be good, I don’t want to be bad. I am trying I really really am and now Mom’s with the angels I want to make her proud, I want to make her really really proud."

 

Peter's words become more hurried as he goes along, and the last sentence is cried out as the boy buries his face in the Captain's shoulder and sobs.

 

"Hey, you’re doing fine boy." He says, tightening his grip. He gently tilts Peter’s head up so that they are facing eachother. “Who's been filling your head with this deserving punishment nonsense, hey?"

 

The child closes his eyes and sniffs. "Can I be a Ravager like you?"

 

It takes Yondu a moment to recover from the temporary bout of paralysis that has overtaken him. It takes him slightly less time to make the biggest decision of his adult life.

 

* * *

 

“How long you reckon you’re going to be gone?” Horuz asks, eyes scanning up and down a datapad of today’s issues.

 

“Six hours. Seven.”

 

“Assuming the Kid doesn’t crash you into a moon.” Horuz looks up at Peter, who is sat on the M-Ship ramp, covered from head to toe in grease and cleaning an engine component. “Sure it’s wise to be taking the cargo with you?”

 

“Quill? Sure. Leave him here and the crew will probably try and eat him again.”

 

Peter looks up at that comment, eyes fixed on Yondu. “Kraglin said Klo was joking about that.”

 

From the corridor outside, they hear what can only be described as a whoop of joy.

 

“Talk of devils.” Horuz mutters under his breath as Kraglin runs into the hanger so fast that his feet slide along the floor when he stops, almost sending him crashing into the opposite wall.

 

“Is that really mine?”

 

“Can’t be a proper Ravager without one.” Yondu says, stepping to one side and pointing up the ramp of the ship in question. “Ready to learn to pilot her?”

 

Kraglin nods, already running up the ramp to find the cockpit. Peter follows him in, the engine component abandoned on the ramp.

 

“Have fun crashing into moons.” Horuz says, eyes still fixed on his datapad.

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Yondu retorts, putting the engine component back where it belongs before closing the hull and making his own way into the cockpit of the ship. He stops at the top of the ramp. “Oh, and Quill ain’t cargo. He’s crew.”

 

Horuz’s eyes fly up, wider than his head. “What!”

 

“I’m backing out of the deal. Boy’s gonna be a Ravager. See you in six hours, maybe seven.” The last word is cut off as the ramp finishes rising.

 

“No, wait! Yondu!” Horuz bangs his fist against the hull of the ship. “Yondu!”

 

When the engine starts to power up a few moments later, Horuz decides to leave the hangar, but he also makes a mental note to kill the Captain later. Slowly.

 

 


	4. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yondu and Horuz discuss the problem that is Peter Quill, Kraglin writes cheques his body can't cash, and Peter is the subject throughout but barely appears :-/

Despite the best efforts of the pilot, they do not crash into any moons.

 

As Yondu carefully lands the ship back on the Eclector, it is to find that seven hours has given Horuz enough time to get really REALLY angry.

 

“What do you mean, he’s staying?” Horuz shouts, picking up the conversation pretty much where they left of.

 

“Got two sleeping boys in the cockpit, Horuz. Want to keep the noise down?”

 

“Don’t change the subject.” Horuz stands before the Captain, stopping him in his path down the ramp. “Ravagers have a code. We don’t back out of a deal.”

 

“We do if I say we do.” Yondu says, shoving Horuz to one side so he can continue his journey down the ramp.

 

“Crew ain’t gonna like it. Mu’Rel was paying big.”

 

“Crew will like it because I am going to tell them to like it.” Yondu spins round. “And because we don’t take blood money.”

 

“Blood money?”

 

“This ain’t open to discussion, Horuz. The boy is joining the crew. We get back to known space, we start looking for new work. We don’t mention Mu’Rel again.”

 

“Yondu!” Horuz grabs the Captain’s shoulder, but lets go when he is met with a red-eyed death glare from the Centaurian.

 

Horuz swallows. “Look, I get it. You get a soft spot for the younglings. Nari, Harris, Kraglin, all kids you picked up ‘cause they had no where else to go. And yes giving them purpose and clothes, food and somewhere safe to sleep is great and noble and I support you for it, I have supported you each and every youngling you bring home and I always have. But we are not talking about a street rat, war orphan or a slave this time, Yondu. That boy has purpose and somewhere to go. He is cargo. Four months we’ve been on this mission and I am not going to throw that away just because you got a soft spot for the meal ticket.”

 

“STOP THAT!”

 

Both men turn to see the teen standing on the ramp, tears on his face.

 

“Stop it Horuz. Stop talking about him like he’s a thing. He’s not your possession. He’s not yours to buy and SELL.” Kraglin looks at Yondu. “He’s not CARGO.”

 

“I told you we should have kept that Terran in the hold.” Horuz mutters to the Captain.

 

Kraglin launches, speeding down the ramp with a cry to tackle the First Mate to the ground, only Yondu intercepts. He grabs the teen and spins, lifting him off the ground and round to face away from Horuz.

 

“Let me go!”

 

“He ain’t worth it, Kraglin.” Yondu says into his ear. “You’re sixteen now. Old enough for an M-Ship, and old enough for The Wall.”

 

Upon hearing the threat, Kraglin takes a deep breath and nods, although it is still several seconds before Yondu feels safe enough to put him back on the ground.

 

“I know you like the kid, Kraglin. I like him too. But we have our orders. We have to deliver him to his father.”

 

“But he doesn’t want to go?”

 

“And he won’t be.” Yondu says, patting the teen on the shoulder before turning to Horuz. “Walk with me, Horuz.”

 

Horuz nods, and follows the Captain out of the hanger.

 

* * *

 

Not a word is said by either men until they reach Yondu’s quarters. The Centaurian walks round to the other side of the table, picking up a decanter and pouring two drinks. He offers one to Horuz, before putting it down on the table before the other man.

 

“You know what a Nephilim is, Horuz?”

 

“No, Captain, I do not.”

 

“Beings of pure light. Ain’t got nothing to do with religion though. If angels do exist, they’d avoid Nephilim like we avoid Nova Corps.” He takes a sip of his drink. “Powerful shits though, they are. Can teleport lightyears with a thought, only thing is they can’t take anything with them. Not even their clothes.

 

“Nine years ago, Nephilim hits Earth. Hard enough to knock his memory clean out. Well, he takes Terran form, they’re natural hiders, it’s an instinct. And he’s found by the prettiest little Terran girl. Meredith.”

 

“Quill’s Mum?”

 

Yondu nods. “Well, they fall in love as only pretty younglings can, and I’m sure you don’t need me to explain to you how a baby is made.”

 

Horuz scoffs, and Yondu sips his drink.

 

“Only problem is, that’s the point that his memory comes tumbling back. And one morning, poor Meredith wakes up pregnant and alone in her bed. All she remembers is a being of pure light.”

 

“Can you cut to the part where we’re making Quill a Ravager?”

 

“Jump forward four years, and Mu’Rel is thinking about his boy. So he jumps back to Earth, takes on a new form. Talks Meredith into letting him move in, and starts raising their boy with her.”

 

“Sounds like a noble guy.”

 

Yondu slams his glass so hard on the table that Horuz wonders how it doesn’t shatter.

 

“If Mu’Rel is a noble guy, then the Nova Prime must be a Goddess walking among us.” Yondu leans forward across the table. “What little I got from Quill, his daddy would beat the shit out of him. And I ain’t talking The Wall. I ain’t talking punishments that fit the crime. I’m talking not being able to add two to two and get four. I’m talking pissing in the bed.”

 

Yondu leans back, taking another sip of his drink. “Weren’t punishments that his Daddy was dishing out. Was abuse. Was being powerful and using that power to break down another. No better than the slavers we took Kraglin from.”

 

He looks down into his glass. “But the job of a First Mate is to talk me out of the stupid decisions. Be my tenth man. So if you want to keep to the Ravager code and deliver on the deal then we shall. You got that power over me, so use it. But it’s going to be you that hands that boy back to his abuser, Horuz. Going to be you that collects the reward money. And you’ll need every penny, because you sure as shit won’t be leaving Mu’Rel’s planet on this ship.”

 

Yondu finishes his drink, and then leaves.

 

Horuz hasn’t even touched his glass.

 

* * *

 

Peter is crawling. He doesn’t know where he is going. He doesn’t care. As long as it is away.

 

_“I know you like the kid, Kraglin. I like him too. But we have our orders. We have to deliver him to his father.”_

 

He can only vaguely remember waking up, stumbling sleepily over to the top of the M-Ship ramp in time to see Kraglin run towards Horuz like a boy possessed. Yondu picks him up, holding him close and whispering into his ear. Then Horuz speaks.

 

_“We have to deliver him to his father.”_

 

Peter quickly jumps down from the ramp, hiding under the ship until Yondu and Horuz have left, until Kraglin is back inside the M-Ship, and then running with all the speed he can manage towards the vent he knows is in the corner of this hanger. He peels it away, climbing inside, and pulling the grate closed behind him.

 

And now he is crawling. And hiding. And crawling. And crying. And lonely. And scared. And cold.

 

But anything is better than being taken back to his Father.

 

So he crawls, as tears blur his vision and hitch his breathing, he crawls.

 

And then, he falls.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER. Peter doesn't die


	5. Brave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Peter makes a friend, Klo loses his mind, and problems occur in the engine room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor warning this chapter for very VERY slight mention of suicide. Barely there, but I am very much a "better safe than sorry" person.

Harris is bored. Very bored. Mind numbingly bored. For the last day he has been scrubbing clean the bio-pathogen filters in the air ventilation unit. Which is tedious, elbow destroying, mind numbingly boring work. Okay, if he doesn’t do it the crew will eventually get sick with a plague of some description, but Harris would rather that than dying from boredom in the middle of the ventilation system.

 

He is just deciding on which mental game to desperately try and occupy himself with next when he hears the cry, and then the unmistakable sound of something falling through the air above him. With reflexes and instinct that only a Luphomoid could possess, he spins round with his arms out and catches the falling Terran just in time.

 

“Well that I was not expecting.” Harris puts the kid on the floor, and removes the protective mask from his face and eyes before kneeling down to the child’s height. “Your name is Quill, is it not? I have seen you in the canteen.”

 

The boy looks up at the height he has fallen from, back at the Luphomoid, and then left and right in the shaft. He then bursts into tears.

 

“Yes. I expect that was quite frightening what just happened to you there.” Harris hesitates, not sure how to deal with a crying child. Yondu would probably pull him into a hug. So he tries that, only for the child to scream so loud that Harris doesn’t think he will ever hear that frequency again.

 

“Sorry. I just thought that maybe you needed someone to keep you safe for a while. Please stop screaming.”

 

Upon hearing the word ‘safe’, the boy calms slightly, sniffing and rubbing a fist under his nose. “Who are you?”

 

“Harris. Well, actually my name is Harayson, but everybody calls me Harris so you might as well do that as well.” Harris smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring way. He quickly decides that smiling is not something he is very good at, because the child giggles. On the bright side, the tears are already drying on his face and he isn’t making any more. Score one for the antisocial Luphomoid.

 

“So, what brings you to this maze of perpetual fatigue that I like to call the Eclector Ventilation system?”

 

Peter bites his bottom lip, shuddering as he suddenly remembers the reason for his crawling through the ducts. “My Daddy wants me to go live with him. And Yondu said that I don’t have to, that I can stay here and be a Ravager, but Horuz got really mad and talked about this deal thing that means I have to go even though I don’t want to.”

 

“So you decided to jump down a ventilation shaft?” Harris asks, concerned.

 

“I fell, ‘cause I’m clumsy.”

 

Breathing a sigh of relief, the engineer reaches out to pat the boy on the shoulder, before remembering the earlier ear piercing scream and deciding better of it. He wants to get to the other side of this situation with some of his hearing left. “Well, we better get you back topside. I expect that Kraglin is feeling lost without you hanging off of his arm like a limpet.”

 

“But…”

 

“Yondu said you can be a Ravager?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well then you will be. The day Horuz can actually make Yondu do something he does not want to do will be the day this ship explodes.” Harris pauses, looking left and right down the shaft.

 

“Do you hear an explosion?” He whispers.

 

“No.”

 

“Then I think you are safe.” He puts the cover back on the bio-pathogen filter, and then starts to crawl through the ventilation, calling over his shoulder. “Follow me. I know this maze so well I could crawl it with my eyes closed. I sometimes do, just to break the monotony.”

 

Peter hesitates, looking back up the shaft he just fell down. “You promise Yondu won't take me to my Daddy.”

 

“I promise that if he tries, we will run together, and I will show you all the really good hiding places down here. Only you have to promise to help me finish cleaning that filter back there first. Deal.”

 

“Deal.” Peter holds out his hand. Harris looks at it, tilting his head to the side, then mimicking the gesture.

 

Peter giggles again. “You’re weird.”

 

“So everyone likes to tell me.” Harris says as he begins leading Peter out of the maze.

 

* * *

 

“Hiya, Captain. Klo here. Just wondering if I could come back on board now, because you know I’ve learned my lesson. Don’t gamble with the nervous systems of individuals whose biological makeup is undocumented, because we don’t know what to do if they have a heart attack.” He pauses to reconsider the way Yondu had worded that last sentence. It had been slightly more profane. “I promise it will never happen again. Cross my heart. And also, you know that psychic counselor fish friend you told me about? Any chance you could hook me up with her when we get back to known space? I only ask because I have noticed that I am starting to have conversations with my self out here, in fact I’m starting to talk to myself all the time. And have imaginary conversations with other people as well, like THIS ONE.”

 

Klo slams his fist on the inactive com unit. That was his fifth run through of the script for operation “get back on board the ship before his mind snaps” but he thinks his mission is already a failure even before attempt number one. Because the Vanir’s mind has snapped. Into about five pieces by his own reckoning. Maybe more.

 

If he could read and write properly, he would consider documenting his experience. But he can’t. So he doesn’t.

 

“Right. Attempt number six.” He sits forward. “Captain, it’s Klo. Remember me?”

 

And then he notices the explosion out of the corner of his eye.

 

“Holy shit!” KIo is immediately alert, joining into formation with the rest of the M-Ship escort as they focus on the mothership.

 

The com unit comes to life as the leader of the M-Ship escort contacts his fleet. “That came from the third thruster. Looks like she’s on fire in there.”

 

* * *

 

Peter screams as the explosion rocks the ship, and would have sent him into the corridor wall. Instead he falls against Harris’s chest, encased in his arms and held there until the rocking stops.

 

“What was that?” Peter says, panicking.

 

“Maybe Horuz won the argument after all.”

 

Another deep explosion rocks the ship, sending them into the opposite wall. Harris spins just in time, cushioning Peter’s landing.

 

“What’s happening?”

 

“It’s coming from the engine room.” Harris kneels down, taking hold of both of Peter’s shoulders. “Look, Quill, they’re going to need me back there. Do you know where you are?”

 

Peter nods, sniffing.

 

“Right. I am going to need you to be brave.”

 

“I’m not brave.”

 

“Of course you are. You are a Ravager now, and we are the bravest, smartest and best that there is in known space.” Harris gently slaps his arm. “So you are brave. Say it.”

 

“I am brave.”

 

“I am going to leave you here. You are going to run to your’s and Kraglin’s room, and you are going to climb into your bunk, and you are going to stay there until I, Kraglin or the Captain comes looking for you. Alright?”

 

Peter nods again, flinching as another explosion rocks the ship.

 

“Right, go.”

 

And Peter runs, covering his hands with his ears as another explosion rocks the ship.

 

 


	6. Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Klo breaks the rules, and Peter puts his Ravager training to the test...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this chapter. I hit writers block (I was also ill, but writers block is the main reason).

Kraglin slams an open hand against the side of the scanner, knocking the screen back into focus. The scanner is on its last legs, and if Peter didn’t have the unique advantage of being the only thing with his biological makeup on the ship right then, Kraglin would have had no chance of locating him.

 

“Come on, Quill, this isn’t funny.” He mutters as he runs round the next corner, finding himself facing a smoke filled corridor. The smoke from the engine fire must have flown straight into the air units. Not a good thing. But the scanner says that Peter is on the other side.

 

He laughs to himself “Happy birthday, Kraglin.”

 

Then he runs through the smoke.

 

* * *

 

Harris thinks that chaos is not an apt enough word to describe the current state of the engine room.

 

“Coolant rods are jammed.” He hears someone, the Chief Engineer (He should probably learn how to pronounce his name one day) shout. And suddenly it is all hands on deck trying to push the rods back into the engine where they belong.

 

Harris cries out as his bare hand comes into contact with the engine casing beneath him. It’s overheating.

 

“They won’t budge.” Another engineer shouts. “Someone’s fried the motors. There’s too much resistance.”

 

“Keep trying.”

 

Harris joins three others in throwing all of their body weight against the rod, but it barely moves an inch. The Luphomoid can now feel the heat of the engine through his boots.

 

“Get down from there.” Klo?

 

Harris pushes again, but it is no use. The rods are completely jammed. And without them the engine is getting hotter and hotter beneath them.

 

And then suddenly, the rod moves like a knife through butter.

 

“I said get down.” Klo shouts, already throwing his superior Vanir strength at the second rod in the sequence. The engine is screaming now as the edges start to melt under the heat. Harris throws himself off the casing, sliding along the floor and, as another distant explosion shakes the ship, falling.

 

Klo runs along the sequence, pushing each rod in against the resistance of the jammed motors. Finally all ten are returned, and on the reading screens above him the temperature slowly, but surely, starts to drop.

 

The Chief Engineer nods his thanks, but that is all the pause he can manage before he shouts. “We need to get these fires out.”

 

Klo jumps down from the engine, ready to take new orders, and then notices the figure in the fueling vat below him.

 

* * *

 

Peter falls over a few feet from the door to his room, tears stinging his eyes. He stands, looking down at his clothes, still grease stained from helping to ready the M-Ship that morning, and now the denim is torn. He can see blood on the skin underneath, and as soon as he sees it the pain starts in his leg.

 

“Ouch!” He cries, pulling himself up the wall. He can see smoke starting to come through the ventilation grating above him. He remembers his Mother telling him about what to do if he ever saw smoke or a fire, and stays away from it, quickly crawling along the floor under the smoke and then climbing back into a run.

 

“What the fuck, Scarro?”

 

He falls again, quickly scurrying into a sitting position and slamming his hands over his mouth to muffle his cry. He doesn’t know why, but he gets the feeling that he does not want to be found by the speaker.

 

He sees two men standing outside his room.

 

“A distraction you said. 1 little distraction!” One of the speakers is Mali, a lizard like alien who Peter recognises from the engineering crew. Stood in front of him is Scarro, a tall Xandarian man who Peter has never liked. Not at all.

 

“Is the crew distracted or not?”

 

“You jammed the coolant rods. The whole ship could blow.”

 

“And it won't matter once we have the brat and are on our way.” Scarro says, forcibly turning Mali around. “Now get in there and wait for him. I’ll see if I can find him on the ship.”

 

“No way.” Mali shakes his head. “No way, I ain’t doing this. You didn’t say anyone was going to get hurt.”

 

“No one is getting hurt.” Scarro says. “Killed maybe.”

 

“Scarro!”

 

“3 billion units. That’s what the Captain cheated us out of when he decided to keep the little gnat. 3 billion units. You think of that, Mali. Won’t need to be following orders on this ship no more. We could buy our own ship. Choose our own jobs.”

 

“No.” Mali shakes his head. “I’m staying here. I’m gonna, I ain’t doing this.”

 

“You little turncoat.” And Mali suddenly finds himself with a pistol pointing directly at his face.

 

“You think I wont do it. I just set in motion the death of this entire fucking crew.”

 

Peter starts fishing through the pockets of his coat.

 

“Scarro...put the gun down...I’ve changed my mind, I’ll help you…”

 

“Yeah, well I can’t trust you anymore.”

 

And suddenly, the pistol is pulled out of Scarro’s hand.”

 

Peter grabs the weapon as it hits the tiny tripod, pointing it at Scarro...or at the very least in Scarro’s general direction. He’s shaking so hard that it hurts.

 

“You...I’m gonna...I will if you don’t...FREEZE!” He screams the last word, which comes out at a slightly higher and slightly less threatening pitch than he was aiming for. It seems to work on Mali at least, who raises his hands and kneels on the ground.

 

“You fucking coward.” Scarro slams Mali’s head against the wall, knocking him out cold and leaving some green blood on the hull. The Xandarian then turns to face the Terran. Peter jerks, re emphasising the aim of his pistol in Scarro’s direction.

 

“Go on then.” Scarro says, widening his arms as he slowly starts his approach on the boy. “Shoot me.”

 

Peter’s can feel the pistol starting to slip as his hands become sweaty, but he can’t make his fingers move. He can’t move an inch now, except to shiver.

 

It isn’t Scarro storming towards him anymore. It’s Murray.

 

“Nothing but a weakling.” Scarro/Murray reaches forward, grabbing the pistol from Peter’s hand. The boy screams, falling backwards into the corridor. “What’s Yondu thinking making you a Ravager?”

 

There is a cry, and then Scarro is on his back on the floor. Fist after first flies into his face, but then he kicks, sending Kraglin flying over his head to land on his own back further up the corridor. The Teen quickly recovers, spinning round into a standing position and sending a kick into the other Xandarian’s midsection. Scarro takes the hit, stumbling backwards, and then throwing his weight forward, grabbing the Teen and sending them both crashing to the ground.

 

Peter grabs the tripod again, desperately trying to calibrate it the way Yondu has shown him.

 

Kraglin is quickly back on his feet, sending a swift kick that would have knocked Scarro senseless had he not dodged it at the last moment, flying forward. Kraglin swings sideways and dives, barreling into the other man as momentum brings him level. The teen pushes backwards and punches again.

 

And the tripod in Peter’s hands began to hum. “Grab something!”

 

Kraglin grabs the pipe behind him not a moment too soon as Scarro, with a cry, is dragged across the corridor. Peter throws the tripod and it lands, quickly pulling the Xandarian on top of it.

 

He grunts, struggling against the force of the device beneath his stomach. “You little bastards. You…”

 

And Kraglin kicks him in the head, knocking him out cold.

 

“Wow!” Peter mutters. “It worked.”

 

“You just calibrated that for Xandarian. Who taught you to do that?”

 

“Yondu.”

 

“Why?”

 

“For the next time you trip me into a recycling unit.”

 

Kraglin laughs, shaking his head as he steps over Mali’s fallen body and disappears into their room.

 

His body suddenly exiting flight or fight mode, Peter stumbles into a sitting position against the wall, watching as Kraglin emerges moments later with two straps of binding twine. One he uses to bind Scarro’s wrist to one of the pipes running along the corridor.

 

“Anyway, where’d you learn to do that?”

 

“Do what?”

 

Peter points at the fallen Scarro. “Fighting.”

 

“Just...places. Kree places mostly.”

 

“Can you teach me fighting?”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Kraglin handcuffs Mali to one of the pipes the same way he did Scarro. “You’re too little.”

 

“I’m only a little littler than you.”

 

“Yeah, well Horuz says I’m overdue a growth spurt.” Kraglin stands, brushing himself down and grabbing Peter’s hand to pull him along the corridor. “We need to find Yondu?”

 

Peter stands on tiptoes. “Am I tall enough now.”

 

“No.” He stops, looking at the boy, and deciding to try changing the subject. “That was a good idea, what you did with the tripod. Awesome.”

 

“Do you know what would make me even more awesome?”

 

Kraglin rolls his eyes as he resumes pulling the Terran along the corridor. “If I taught you how to fight?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Figured.”

 

“Will you?”

 

“No.”

 

“Please.”

 

* * *

 

Harris’s hand is wet and he is convinced that he is going to see blood when he finishes coughing into it. It’s just fluid from the fuel tank though. Thank the Gods.

 

Except that it tastes disgusting and his digestive track seems to be full of it. He coughs again.

 

“You okay there Harayson?” Klo pounds the Luphomoid on the back, which nearly sends him back over the railing, but it also loosens the fluid stuck in his throat. It expels in a gelatinous mass back into the tank.

  
“Lovely.” The Vanir says, grimacing.

 

“Thank you.” Harris wheezes, his throat still raspy.

 

Just as Harris is regaining his ability to stand unaided, what is left of the door is kicked to one side by a very angry looking Centaurian Captain.

 

“Captain.” Klo says, hands raised in a stance of surrender. “Now, before you shove me through an airlock, please may I just point out that”...He nods sideways in Harris’s direction “I just saved his life. And the ship. Mostly his life.”

 

Harris says nothing,

 

“Back me up.” Klo says through the corner of his mouth.

 

Harris takes as deep a breath as he is able given his current condition.

 

“He saved my life and the ship so it is a really good thing that he is back onboard and I think maybe you should not throw him through an airlock, not that I would ever consciously or unconsciously question the decision of the Captain, I am just giving an opinion Captain Yondu...It is entirely up to you of course Captain... I should shut up now, shouldn’t I?”

 

Klo buries his face in his hands.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, there was a point to that little journey away from the main plot. Honest :-)


	7. Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Punishment that fits the crime...

There is a large “patch” within the ship where enough corridors meets in one place to form a room. It has become an official meeting place of sorts, being one of the few areas of the ship beside the canteen that can fit the whole crew and isn’t also filled with cargo.

 

Peter is sitting on Kraglin’s shoulders as they approach the area, and he can soon see why the Xandarian wants him off the ground. The area has become akin to a mosh pit, with every Ravager clawing to the front of the semicircular gap around the far wall.

 

The Wall.

 

Peter leans forward to whisper in Kraglin’s ear. “What’s happening?”

 

Kraglin does not answer, except to tighten his grip on Peter’s ankles. The Terran sits back up, his hands clutching at the cloth on his friend’s shoulders.

 

In the middle of the semicircle stand Yondu and Horuz, and against The Wall, each held by two Ravagers, is Scarro and Mali.

 

“Pretty shit stupid thing you did back there.” Yondu is saying. “And not just talking about kidnapping a youngling. No, you go and make a distraction first. Not been for Klo, the whole ship could have gone up.” The Centaurian points at Scarro. “Could have killed this crew.” He points at Peter and Kraglin. “See those children there. Could have killed them.”

 

Mali is crying, clearly afraid, but Scarro remains defiant, a smug grin on his face. Peter looks at him, and sees only Murray.

 

Yondu turns to face Mali. “Been speaking to those boys. Little one says you were turning coat. You were going to go back and help the crew. You did good in the end Mali, but it don’t right your wrong.”

 

Mali’s eyes are fixed on a spot on the floor as he is held against the wall by the other Ravagers. Yondu doesn’t hesitate. He steps forward, and his first punch goes straight into the gut.

 

Peter’s face crumples as he buries it in Kraglin’s hair, shaking as he hears each punch. He thinks of Murray, smiling as he deals out his punishment.

 

The crew cheer, enjoying the show.

 

Finally, it feels like days later, the blows stop, and Peter looks up just in time to see the Ravagers let go of Mali, who collapses to the floor, knees bent and arms wrapped around himself protectively.

 

“Shit stupid thing you did. But you did good in the end.” Yondu bends down and pulls Mali back to his feet. “Best you get yourself familiar with the engines, ‘cause you’re going to be helping fix the damage your friend caused. And you’ll be in the brig till I say otherwise. Anything to say?”

 

“Thank you.” Mali says quietly.

 

Yondu gives him a quick nod, patting him on the shoulder before looking back at the two Ravagers who, until a moment ago, had been holding Mali against the wall. This time their hold is gentler as they support his weight, slowly leading him out of the area in the direction of the brig.

 

Yondu, meanwhile, has looked back at Scarro.

 

“Ravagers have a code.” He says, at the top of his voice. “And that code is we work together. One crew. One unit. Anyone who turns on that crew, better hope they don’t live long enough for the crew to find them.”

 

“Else they’ll pay.” Horuz shouts, and the crew cheers.

 

Yondu raises a hand in the air, silencing the crew almost instantly. “Horuz?”

 

“Captain?”

 

“I don’t want the younglings seeing this.”

 

Horuz nods, approaching Kraglin and Peter. Peter’s resulting scream is deafening, and Kraglin can’t help his grimace as the Terran grips his hair tightly. The teen steps backwards, hoping that putting distance between himself and Horuz will calm his friend.

 

“I’ve got it.” Klo says, making quick work of grabbing both boys so that one is held against each shoulder. Horuz, looking shaken by the experience of having Peter be so afraid of him, gives the Vanir a curt nod before turning back to the Captain.

 

Klo turns, carrying the boys away from the area. Peter looks back over his shoulder just in time to see the semicircle shrink, the entire crew standing with their fists ready, facing Scarro.

 

The first punches are thrown as Klo turns the corner, obscuring Peter’s view.

 

-

 

The boys sit at the canteen table, both watching with worried expressions as Klo attempts to cook something that might, in some cultures, be described as edible.

 

“Right. Soup?”

 

Kraglin nods, but Peter silently turns his eyes back to the table, where he was playing with a small toy vehicle, laser cut from a piece of leftover construction material. The engineering crew had made it for Kraglin when he had first been brought aboard, and it had been one of Peter’s first hand-me-downs, after the clothes he was wearing.

 

“Quill?”

 

Peter ignores the Vanir, making quiet ‘broom broom’ sounds as he plays with the toy car.

 

“Come on, we ain’t eaten all day.” Kraglin says. “I promise to teach you how to fight if you eat something.”

 

Peter sniffs, and continues playing with the car.

 

“Don’t force him if he isn’t hungry, Kraglin.” Klo says, passing a bowl towards the Xandarian. “You okay?”

 

“Me? I’m fine.”

 

“Hell of a birthday.”

 

“Had worse.” Kraglin mutters as he starts to eat the soup.

 

Klo almost collapses with relief when Yondu appears at the canteen entrance. He quickly walks over, his voice low as he addresses the Captain. “Scarro?”

 

“Dead.” Yondu says. “Eventually.”

 

Klo nods. “Forgive me if I don’t shed a tear.”

 

Yondu fixes his gaze. “Your M-Ship duty?”

 

Klo smiles, and places his hands together in a gesture of prayer.

 

Yondu looks from Klo to Peter, and then back to Klo. “Is over. Good work.”

 

“Thank you, Captain.” Klo says, before....with one last glance back at the boys sat at the table...he leaves the Canteen.

 

Kraglin is the first to look round, and he starts to stand before Yondu stops him with a raised hand.

 

“Finish your dinner, boy. You’ve more than earned it today.”

 

Yondu walks around to sit at the end of the table, at a right angle to the boys. He doesn’t miss the frightened, quick glance that Peter gives him. The way the car stills on the table.

 

Yondu looks up at Kraglin. “You’re old enough for the wall yourself now. Do you understand why Scarro and Mali were punished?”

 

“They betrayed the crew.” Kraglin says, quietly.

 

Yondu nods. “And why the crew was there?”

 

“So they know what happens if they betray you.”

 

“Not just me, any Ravager.” Yondu says, looking at Peter with his eyes fixed on the toy car, his expression so broken....vulnerable...that the Centaurian wants nothing more than to reach out to him. He wishes so badly that he could turn back time and realise sooner that Peter was too soon in his recovery to see The Wall.

 

“Scarro and Mali were going to abduct Quill.”

 

“I know.” Kraglin says.

 

“And Quill’s a Ravager now, ain’t you boy.”

 

Peter doesn’t answer, and Yondu decides not the force the issue further.

 

“I love my crew.” Yondu says, addressing Kraglin again. “But a Ravager fleet Captain’s gotta be harsh sometimes. Even when I don’t wanna be. Even when it hurts me too. This wont be the last time you see me do what you saw today. Might even be you that I got against The Wall one day. I hope it won't be. But you understand now that if it is, it won’t be ‘cause I want to. And it’ll be because you did something that was shit stupid, that the crew needs to see punished. You understand?”

 

Kraglin nods.

 

“Right. Finish your soup.” Yondu shifts in his chair, facing Peter. “You not eating, boy?”

 

Peter looks up from the toy car that has, until that moment, been the focus of his attention. “I’ll eat if you want me to.”

 

“You ain’t in any trouble for not being hungry, Quill.” Yondu says. “Wish you hadn’t seen that today at The Wall. But it’s part of being a Ravager, so you needed to learn sooner or later I suppose.”

 

“They did bad things.”

 

Yondu nods.

 

“I do bad things too, but you never hit me?”

 

“That’s ‘cause you don’t deserve to be hit.” Yondu says. “And you ain’t bad. Yeah you get things wrong and you’re a bit slow in some of your learning, but heck Kraglin there never mastered that tripod calibration the way you did. You’re good at the tech stuff. And mistakes, well that’s a part of growing up. Mad person that can’t see that. You got that tripod I gave you?”

 

Peter reaches into his pocket, pulling out the tripod.

 

“Good. You keep that. ‘Cause I reckon you’re gonna be our chief in bag and tag, when you’re older.”

 

Peter looks up at Yondu. “I don’t like being punished…”

 

“Then don’t be bad.”

 

“I don’t try to be.” Peter says, his entire expression falling.

 

“That’s why you ain’t.” Yondu says, dropping your voice. “I ain’t blind Quill. I can put two and two together. So I know from what little you said that your Daddy had a unique position on what did and didn’t deserve punishment. But you hear me now, those hits he gave you, you didn’t deserve them. Scarro and Mali, they earned theirs, that’s why they got them. And I ain’t gonna lie by saying that you’ll never earn your own. But it won't be today or tomorrow. I don’t send Younglings to the wall, and even if I did you wouldn’t be going. Because you ain’t bad. Your Daddy was the one in the wrong.”

 

“But grown ups are never wrong?”

 

“Scarro and Mali not grown ups now?”

 

Peter sits back in his chair, teeth biting into his bottom lip. “I guess they are.”

 

“Were in Scarro’s case.” Kraglin mutters before taking another mouthful of soup.

 

“Stop telling people that you’re a bad kid, Quill. ‘Cause you ain’t. Not by Ravager standards.” Yondu picks up the tripod. “You’re our chief bag and tag man.”

 

Peter smiles. “Bag and tag.”

 

“I love it when the newbies figure out their place in the crew.” Yondu says, handing the tripod back to Peter. “Gonna be teaching you the fine art of breaking and entering, Boy. And you are gonna be famous. Might even get an outlaw name.”

 

“Star Lord.” Peter says, smiling.

 

Kraglin looks round, the Xandarian equivalent of WTF clear on his face.

 

“It’s what my Mom called me, sometimes.”

 

Yondu laughs. “Star Lord. Well that’s gonna need a bit more than breaking and entering training.”

 

“I’ll need to learn how to fight.” Peter says.

 

Kraglin screws his eyes shut, praying that it is all a twisted dream as he pushes his soup bowl forward and buries his face in his arms.

 

“Well if you ain’t eating then you should probably be sleeping.” Yondu says, slowly reaching out to the Terran and, when he doesn’t flinch, lifting him up into his arms. “How about you sleep on a cot in my room tonight, let Kraglin here get some proper rest. What do you Terran’s call it, a sleepover?”

 

“Sleepovers are for girls.” Peter says.

 

“Well then you need to be taught the finer points of known space’s history. Chapter in Centaurian past for one, the year the sexes became equal.”

 

Kraglin laughs to himself as Yondu and Peter travel further down the corridor, Yondu’s voice is the last thing to fade.

 

“Ancestor of mine was the ringleader, about three hundred years ago…”

  
  



	8. Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re gonna be okay with us. You’re safe now. Safe as you could possibly be.

Yondu likes to think that he is a good man. He’s not a perfect man, not by any stretch of the imagination, and there are those in known space who would describe him as a tyrant. Well, right before he killed them.

 

But he likes to think that he is a good man, which is why he tells himself that he is not going to get annoyed when he is awoken by an insistent prodding on his shoulder.

 

“What do you want, Boy?” He mutters still half asleep.

 

“I need to go bathroom.”

 

“Well you know where it is.”

 

“But it’s dark outside in the corridor.” Peter says, shrinking in on himself. “It’s scary.”

 

“You need walking to the bathroom?”

 

Peter nods.

 

Yondu closes his eyes with a groan, makes a mental note to congratulate Kraglin on not murdering the Terran while they were roommates, and stands. Normally he would put up more than a fight than this, but he wants to get back to sleep as soon as possible, so he relents. “Come on then.”

 

The journey to and from is uneventful, and Yondu allows himself a sigh of relief as he climbs back into the bunk.

 

Peter sits cross legged in the middle of his cot, looking around the room.

 

“You better not be about to ask for a bedtime story.” Yondu says, his eyes closed.

 

“I want something from my bag.” Peter swallows. “I mean, please can I get something from my bag?”

 

Yondu’s eyes fly open. It was probably the most assertive that the boy has been with the Captain since they brought him on board, and the tiny glimmer of a breakthrough makes Yondu want to break down, whoop with joy, and hug the Terran all in the same second.

 

He goes to the cupboard in the corner of his quarters, pulling the bag off the top shelf and throwing it in Peter’s direction. It lands on the edge of the cot and the boy pounces in it, pulling it open so harshly that Yondu wonders how it doesn’t tear.

 

He doesn’t recognise the strange device that Peter pulls out, a small silver box connected to what appears to be a headset, with orange accessories. The boy smiles as he places the headset on, holding the device to his chest.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome.” Yondu decides not to ask about what happened to the comb, instead he climbs back into his bunk and listens as the boy lays down on the opposite side of the room, and starts to slowly humming under his breath.

 

It should probably be annoying, but Yondu finds it oddly uplifting as he listens to the Terran quietly humm away, most likely along with the noise being generated by the device. The Centaurian turns onto his side, head rested in his hand, and watches the boy. Peter is oblivious to the attention, curled on his side under the blanket, his back to the Captain.

 

Eventually the humming stops, and Yondu gently steps over to the cot to find the boy fast asleep. Moving as slowly as he can without actually being stood still, Yondu carefully removes the headset, then works the device out of the boys grip. He fiddles with buttons until the moving parts stop moving, and lowers the device back into the boys bag.

 

After a moment, Peter starts to mutter in his sleep, and before he has even realised that he is doing it, Yondu is humming, a near eidetic memory giving him each note of the melody that Peter performed. The boy settles immediately, and before long he is snoring softly.

 

“Good night, Quill.” Yondu mutters as he climbs back into his bunk.

 

“G’night.”

 

It takes Yondu a moment to realise that the boy is speaking in his sleep. He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “How you feeling there, boy?”

 

“Safe.”

 

“You’d tell me if you didn’t.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“That’s good, boy.” Yondu says, nodding as he lays down. “You’re a good boy.”

 

Peter yawns. “Thank you.”

 

“What for, Quill?”

 

When it becomes clear that Peter isn’t going to reply, Yondu sighs and closes his eyes, and thinks that he is imagining the whisper from the cot.

 

“Everything.”

 

They both sleep through the rest of the night, undisturbed.

 

* * *

 

8 YEARS LATER

 

“That’s Sakaaran.” Kraglin says quietly as he throws the gun at Yondu.

 

The Captain catches it in one hand, studying it before looking back up at his First Mate. “You sure, Kraglin?”

 

“Positive.” The Xandarian nods.

 

“I do not want to sound morbid.” Harris says, raising a hand as a point of order. “But, if this was a busy Nova Empire colony, surely there would be more people living here? Only there do not seem to be all that many corpses.”

 

“Kree took them.” Kraglin says without missing a beat. “Took them to be slaves.”

 

Harris visible pales as Kraglin walks past him, pausing to pat the Luphomoid on the shoulder before he continues his journey into the courtyard of the colony. It was probably beautiful once, but now the tree in the centre is dead, burned to almost a charcoal shadow of its former self. Sat under it, Peter rocks gently. He is holding a Krylorian infant in his arms. The child appears to be asleep, and is wearing the headset of Peter’s walkman.

 

“I see you finally got him to stop crying.” Kraglin says, quietly.

 

“Feel free to take over at any time.” Peter mutters, a genuine pleading expression on his face.

 

“Hell no. I babysat the last youngling, remember.” Kraglin nods in Peter’s general direction.

 

Peter nods back, then looks down at the sleeping child. “Guess it’s my turn.”

 

“Enjoy every second. I will be.”

 

Peter throws a rude gesture at the FIrst Mate. “When do we leave?”

 

“Klo wants time to do that Vanir ritual thing that ensures safe passage to the afterlife. Soon as he’s done with that, we’re gone.” Kraglin falls quiet as he hears Yondu approach.

 

“He’s only tiny.” Yondu says sadly as he walks past Kraglin, coming to kneel in front of Peter and the newest addition to the crew.

 

Because of course that is what the child is going to be. Peter wishes he had the chance to put money on it.

 

“Very tiny. Probably not even four years old. You okay with him, Quill?”

 

“Of course.” The teenager says straight away, offering the Captain a smile.

 

“That’s my boy.” Yondu throws a smile of his own at the Terran, then leans forward to run a gentle hand over the sleeping child’s head before standing.

 

As soon as Yondu and Kraglin are gone, Peter adjusts his position, turning the child slightly so that he is more comfortable against Peter’s chest. He switches off the walkman, but leaves the headset where it is for now, not wanting to disturb the Krylorian.

 

“Welcome to the Ravager Family.” He whispers. “You’ve got loads of new brothers to play with, some of whom are crazier than others, but it’s a good kind of crazy. And our Dad? Well our Dad is awesome, but don’t go telling him I called him that, okay. You’ve got to call him Captain." Peter hugs the child a little bit closer. "You’re gonna be okay with us. You’re safe now. Safe as you could possibly be.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap. 
> 
> Huge thank you to LilRed7503 for the prompt. And a huger thank you to everyone who left kudos, bookmarked, and commented. I am grateful for it :-)
> 
> *Hugs all round*


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